


already saying goodbye

by gloss



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergence, Flash Fic, M/M, Porn with Feelings, ahch-to is for lovers, the Force works in mysterious ways, time-dilation sorts of ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 19:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: From Jakku, Poe crashes on Ahch-To. He can't stay long.





	already saying goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bob Mould's ["See a Little Light"](https://youtu.be/dDnNr6lNxvc).  
It's very difficult to write something shippy between two people who haven't met onscreen that is neither an AU nor features an "established relationship" in a flash exchange, I tell you what.  
**edit 10/12/19** This fic was written for the Star Wars Rare Pairings Flash Exchange (a three-day writing period) for someone who later rejected it. It was written according to the constraints of their request, which included no mention of previous relationships and AUs, nor the presence of infidelity and/or established relationships. It did not violate any listed DNWs so far as I have been able to tell.

"Ship's fixed," Luke announces.

"Yeah, I know." Poe's sitting on a short length of driftwood, sharing his midday meal with three porgs. He squints as he looks up at Luke silhouetted against the sky: hair lifting, robe rustling, face too shadowed to make out. "I'll get going after moon rise."

Luke drops to a crouch, fingertips splayed to brace his balance. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you did." Poe grins and tosses more crumbs at the porgs. They cackle and click as they jostle each other. They're round and sweet and cute, but they're no BB-8. "It's all right. I'm not supposed to be here, pretty soon I won't be."

Luke's hair and beard are soft to the touch, but his lips are chapped and his hands callused. He's nearly as weathered, wind-softened and salt-scrubbed, as everything else here. Beside him, Poe can sometime feel like he hasn't in nearly twenty years: awkward, kind of oily, too enthusiastic and excitable. _Adolescent_.

He isn't, of course. He's a grown man with threads of silver in his own hair and a trick knee that aches when the sea blows high. Hell, in another life, he's a commander in a paramilitary guerrilla force.

"Well," Luke says after a bit. He stands up, brushing off his palms, then offering Poe a hand up. "Care to make the most of the time you've got left?"

Once on his feet, Poe grasps Luke's hand with both of his own and pulls him in, kissing him as fully and deeply as he can. The porgs scatter, chirruping and chiding them. Luke's robe flaps loudly; the sea beats and beats, crawling below them and thundering as it seethes.

With a half-smile that might be shy, Luke pulls a little away and tips his head toward his hut. 

"Yeah, _fine_," Poe grumbles. The fish nuns have had a word with Luke, it's obvious. "Indoors it is."

"Indulge me," Luke says as they duck inside.

"I plan to," Poe replies and then can't help but smirk, _a lot_, as he tugs open Luke's robes and nudges him back on the cot. "Indulgence, and then some, coming right up."

Luke laughs low and sweet, like rainwater, his eyes moving quickly. He helps Poe off with his jumper and singlet, then reclines back on his elbows. His robes are spread, rumpled as the sea, beneath and around him; his body is compact and strong beneath burnished skin and pale, curling hair.

The first time Poe saw him naked, he told Luke he was beautiful. He meant it then, and he would mean it all the more now, were he to make the same mistake of saying so again.

But Poe can learn, sometimes, and he's learned not to..._disturb_ Luke too much. Not to push, not to ask, not to do anything that makes him turn away, hood his eyes, frown like his face has frozen in sorrow. Instead, he can make Luke laugh with bawdy songs, bad puns and worse impressions, highly-embroidered anecdotes and outright tall tales. He can settle his body atop Luke's, feel Luke's thighs bracket his hips, and kiss the man until they're both panting and Luke's winding his hands in Poe's hair and tilting back his head, offering his throat. His hips move and rock, he grows thick and hard against Poe's belly, and he half-sobs, half-grunts whenever Poe takes him in his mouth.

He fully sobs when Poe works him open with two, three, slicked fingers while bobbing his head up and down. Luke throws an arm over his eyes when it gets too much, leaving only his chin visible, sometimes accompanied by his lower lip and teeth. He arches his back and folds himself _around_ Poe, all his limbs and mouth, takes him deeper, canting up for the pleasure until Poe's blinded by sweat in his eyes and heat in his chest, thunder in his heart.

He fingers Luke afterward, as they're both coming down, trembling and twitching. His fingers slip in his come and twist inside and Luke asks for more. He begs for it, voice high and reed, face dark as stone.

Poe crashed here nearly three weeks ago. Last thing he knew, he was crawling away from the wreckage of the TIE when a scavenger lasso'd him and taser'ed him unconscious. Next, he was in Black One, spiralling down through a perfect sky to a rocky green island.

"The Force," Luke says as dusk falls and they struggle out of their doze, wash up and share some food, "will always be with you. I don't need to wish it on you."

Poe ducks his head and rubs his mouth. "Wish you'd come back with me."

"You know I can't do that."

"Way I see it, you can do just about anything," Poe tells him.

"Flatterer," Luke replies, and turns from the kiss. He says something else, possibly _thank you_, but the wind takes his voice.

"My best to the nuns," Poe says when he climbs into the cockpit. 

As Luke gazes up at him, Poe nearly salutes him. He stops himself and blows a kiss instead.


End file.
